


Best Intentions (pave many roads)

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, BAMF Tony Stark, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frostiron Bingo Round 1, Good Odin (Marvel), Humor, Implied/Referenced Sex, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Matchmaker Odin, Oblivious Odin (Marvel), Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, POV Multiple, POV Outsider, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Poor Thor (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:06:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Odin knows that he hasn’t done right by Loki in the past, but now he just wants his son to be happy– and the best way to help Loki find happiness is, obviously, to assist his attempts to court Tony Stark. There’s no way that this could go wrong.…or, five times Odintriesto do something nice for Loki– and the one time that he actually manages it.





	Best Intentions (pave many roads)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [STARSdidathing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/gifts).

> This is entirely **STARSdidathing**'s fault, she takes all the blame for this. I don't even know how most of this even happened.  
  
For my Frostiron Bingo—  
  
**Square B1**— _Character: Odin._

Odin knew that he hadn’t done right by Loki in the past.

It was one of his greatest regrets, the one thing that he wished he would be able to take back.

He really did love Loki as a son, of course he did– but he hadn’t told Loki the _truth_, and when Loki found out, Odin hadn’t supported him the way that he should have. He wished that he had been able to hold the Odinsleep off for just a little longer, that he might have been able to have a _proper_ conversation with Loki, to help him through all that had happened and tell him again and again just how loved Loki was. But that was all in the past now, and there was no way for him to go back and make it all right.

Odin had spoken to Loki since, of course– they had reached a point where they could be civil to one another, although Loki still would not call him ‘Father’. Odin understood that, and he had decided not to push, no matter how much it pained his heart. Because he _did_ love Loki, and he would be willing to walk through fire if it meant that he could see Loki smile again, the way that he had smiled when he was younger.

But Loki wouldn’t smile for Odin anymore, and Odin began to fear that he would never be able to see Loki’s smile again. And you know what? Odin might have been able to live with that, if he knew that Loki was smiling when he was with someone else. But Loki just didn’t seem to be happy anymore, and that was what scared Odin the most.

At least– until the day that he _finally_ saw that old spark come back into Loki’s eyes, and then Odin had reason to hope.

There wasn’t anything special about the day– it was a simple dinner, in the Hall just like always. Odin was sitting with Frigga in their usual place, while Thor and Loki were beside each other on the next table over. They weren’t sitting with Sif, Volstagg, and the others– they rarely did, at least not since Sif and the Warriors Three had committed treason during Loki’s short reign as King. They had not been able to forgive Loki for what they perceived him to have done, and so, in turn, he had not forgiven them. Odin was saddened by Loki’s lack of friends, though he was glad that Thor was sticking by his brother– that Loki at least had _someone_ he could count upon.

Seeing that had made Odin wonder if there was anything he could do to help– if perhaps, there wasn’t a way that he could convince a few people that spending some time with his son would be in their best interests.

However, he knew that Loki would not appreciate it if Odin ordered Thor’s friends to be kinder to him. In fact– Loki would more likely than not take it as another insult. No, that would not help in the slightest.

But that did not stop Odin from worrying, and he could not help but try to listen in on his sons’ conversation.

What he heard was not surprising. Thor was doing most of the talking, recounting what sounded like a glorious battle with a mighty monster of Greek legend, the many headed beast that was nigh impossible to defeat due to its habit of regrowing certain significant pieces of its anatomy. And it was likely that the conversation, so like any other, would have quickly lost Odin’s interest– except for one tiny detail.

When Thor mentioned the hero known as Iron Man, Loki’s attention was immediately piqued. A spark entered his eye, and he leaned forward to engage in the conversation with more liveliness than Odin had seen thus far. And when Loki spoke of this Tony Stark – or _Anthony_, as Loki called him, contrary to the name that Thor had used – his entire expression lightened, as if he were almost _happy_.

And that was when Odin realised– Loki not only knew this mortal, he _cared_ for him. And more than only as a teammate or a friend.

Of course, Odin had always known of his son’s preference toward men, and he had never been bothered by it– he didn’t mind who Loki chose to be with, provided that person would make Loki happy. He _was_ a little concerned by the fact that Loki had chosen a Midgardian to bestow his affections upon– though of course, he was aware that there wasn’t always an element of choice to such matters. But if this was what it would take to make Loki smile once more, then really, it wouldn’t have mattered even if Loki had fallen in love with an A'askvariian. Odin still would have made an attempt to help Loki get what he wanted.

Because when all was said and done– Odin just hoped that, maybe, he would finally be able to do something right by his son and bring Loki some well-deserved happiness.

** _One._ **

When Frigga saw Odin staring at their youngest son with a faraway look in his eyes, she immediately began to brace herself for several long and difficult mediatory conversations.

It was always the way between the two of them– they had always butted heads, even before Loki had learned the truth about his heritage. And since then, things had only grown worse. That was something that Frigga wished she had fought harder to avoid, wished that she had been able to convince Odin to trust Loki with the truth, or perhaps that she’d had the courage to say something herself. But she had been as caught up with the illusion as Odin had– believing in her own mind that so long as Loki was her son, then it should not matter who he was born as. He would always be Loki regardless.

But of course, it mattered to _Loki_, and when he had learned the truth it had created a rift between he and Odin that had not yet healed.

Odin’s subsequent decision regarding Loki’s sentencing for his crimes on Midgard had only made that worse. It was only after he helped Thor to defeat the Dark Elves and then provided his assistance in the quick and effective assault upon the Mad Titan that Loki was granted his freedom once more. And after such a long time doing penance for something which, during the fight with Thanos, they had learned Loki perhaps should not have been entirely to blame for in the first place– Loki had, understandably, not been inclined to forgive. Oh, he lived on Asgard peacefully, and he had resumed his duties as a prince, but he did not spend any more time in the same room as Odin than was strictly necessary.

That pained Odin more than anything else, Frigga knew that. She also knew that Odin loved him, and that he wanted nothing more than to repair the rift that had formed between them– but that was precisely why the look in his eye worried her.

Because Frigga knew her husband. She _knew_ the look in his eye. And if there was one thing she was certain of, it was that this was _not_ going to end well.

And, sure enough—

“We should do something nice for Loki,” Odin said, sounding almost absent as he continued watching their sons.

“A good idea,” Frigga agreed, hoping to be able to head this off before it grew into worrying proportions. “Perhaps we should inform the cook to prepare his favourite meal tomorrow, or send a bouquet of sweet flowers to brighten his room—”

“We should send him to Midgard,” Odin said, quite clearly having not heard a single word that Frigga had said. “He will like that.”

“I do not think he will like being _sent_ anywhere,” Frigga suggested—

“Tony Stark lives on Midgard.”

_Oh,_ Frigga realised. _Oh, dear._

“Perhaps this is something that will require more thought,” Frigga said, keeping her tone gentle despite the urge to roll her eyes. “Loki will not appreciate it if you become overbearing.”

“I will not be overbearing,” Odin promised, turning to her with a quick smile. “I merely wish to help him find his happiness. He will go to Midgard tomorrow.”

Frigga sighed. Oh well. Odin would not manage to do too much damage– and hopefully, even if it ended up being on accident by way of trying to do something else, he might be able to do something good for their son.

And when Loki began spitting about unjust punishments and _banishment_ after Odin informed him about the planned and involuntary trip to Midgard, Frigga merely sighed and decided that asking the cook to prepare Loki’s favourite meal was probably a good idea regardless.

Hopefully, Odin would learn from his initial mistake when designing his future endeavours.

** _Two._ **

When Loki turned up in Avengers Tower out of the blue and immediately started to complain about being unjustly banished against his will, Pepper was entirely unsurprised when Tony immediately offered him a drink.

It was such a _Tony_ thing to do, after all– even if it was just before 10am in the morning. Pepper didn’t like to judge on such matters, since she knew that Tony was trying to be supportive. She might have even joined in – Loki looked truly irritated enough that Pepper was sure the gossip, at least, would be entertaining to listen to – but she had a lot of paperwork waiting for her in her office that she couldn’t just ignore. And besides, Steve and Bruce offered to stay with Loki and Tony to join them in the commiserating, so it wasn’t like they would be alone. (Pepper had learned the hard way that leaving Tony and Loki alone in a shared area when alcohol was involved would result in either furniture being destroyed by magic or used for purposes she would rather not have the image of in her mind.)

So she had bid them all a good morning and offered Loki her condolences before heading back down to her office, hoping that Steve and Bruce would keep the chaos to a minimum.

Perhaps…she also shouldn’t have been surprised that Loki came knocking on her door less than half an hour later, a panicked look in his eyes and an immediate plea of innocence falling from his lips.

“I swear I had no idea it was Asgardian wine,” he said quickly. “If I had, I never would have let this happen.”

Pepper blinked. Then she placed down her pen, stood up out of her chair, and smoothed down her jacket.

“How much did he drink?” she asked, already moving toward the door in swift steps.

“More than he should have,” Loki replied, keeping pace as they made their way toward the elevator. “Even Rogers is… well. Perhaps you should come and see for yourself?”

To be honest, Pepper was not entirely certain that she _wanted_ to see for herself– but she was also sure that whatever it was, she’d seen worse. After all, she had worked as Tony’s PA for years.

“I just don’t know how this happened,” Loki groaned as the elevator doors slid shut. “It must have been Thor. This type of wine is expensive, though I only recognised it after taking a sip. And by then, Anthony had already downed half a glass.”

“Is he all right?” Pepper asked.

“I don’t know,” Loki said– and the worry in his tone was more than enough to have Pepper believing him. “I didn’t want to leave them all, but I do not know what to do when a mortal is drunk. I had hoped that you would be able to help.”

“I imagine that it can’t be that much different from looking after drunk Asgardians,” Pepper commented. “And Thor _is_ your brother. Surely you’ve got some experience?”

“I never looked after him when he was drunk.”

“Not even once?”

“I was always of the opinion that if he made the mistake of drinking so much, he should be willing to suffer the consequences of it,” Loki said.

“But you want to help Tony now?” Pepper asked, her voice softening a little as she realised that asking for help like this was not a _normal_ thing for Loki to do.

The pink flush that warmed Loki’s cheeks was more than enough of an answer, but he was saved from giving one verbally by the elevator doors sliding open—

And oh, but the living room was a _sight_.

Steve and – and _Hulk_ – were lying beside each other on the floor, their legs inexplicably at ninety-degree angles from their hips so that they were sticking straight up into the air. Tony, meanwhile, was standing in the middle of the living room, looking not unlike a lost puppy-dog—

But his eyes widened when he saw them approaching, and his expression split into a wide grin. “Lokes!” he exclaimed, hurrying forward in a direction that would put him a few meters to Loki’s left– but Loki deftly stepped to the side and caught him in his arms. Tony’s lips fell into a pout then, and he looked up to Loki sadly. “I missed you.”

“I know,” Loki said, somehow managing to sound incredibly patient. “Are you all right?”

Tony frowned. “I dunno, I feel kind of funny. No. You’re here now, so I am _totally_—” He paused again. Pressed his lips together.

“Anthony?” Loki asked.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Tony said seriously—

And then Loki and Tony both vanished.

“JARVIS?” Pepper asked.

“Mr Stark’s bathroom, Ms Potts.”

Pepper quickly checked on Steve and Hulk before leaving the living room – apparently, they were having a competition to see who could hold their legs in the air the longest, so she thought they were probably safe to leave for a little while – and then she made her way up to Tony’s penthouse.

JARVIS assured her that Tony and Loki were doing all right for now, so she went to Tony’s kitchen and fetched a clean glass, then a cloth from the cupboard– and only _then_ did she make her way to the bathroom.

And what she saw made her pause in the doorway, her features softening once again.

Tony was clutching the edge of the toilet with both of his hands, his skin a clammy white as he retched. Loki was rubbing Tony’s back with one hand and holding a pile of tissues in the other.

“Here,” Pepper said, filling the glass with water from the sink before placing it down within Loki’s reach. She wet the cloth as well, so that it would be cool for Tony’s skin when he was done retching– and then she dug in the medicine cabinet for some electrolyte powder and Advil.

She waited for Tony to calm, and watched as Loki guided him to sit with his back to the toilet. Loki then helped Tony wipe his mouth and pressed the flush, before handing Tony the glass of water.

“You seem like you’re coping,” Pepper said quietly—

But to her surprise, Loki shot her a look that was bordering on _panicked_. “No,” he said. “I don’t know how to make him better, or—”

“Here.”

Pepper showed him the electrolyte powder, which Loki stared at in complete bemusement.

“When he seems more settled, dissolve this in some water for him to drink. There’s more, if you need it. And in the morning, give him these.” She explained the dose for the Advil – not sure if Loki had any experience with human medicines, though she sincerely doubted it. And when she was done, Loki looked a little less lost.

“Thank you,” Loki said. “Really.”

Pepper sighed. “There is one thing you can do to show your gratitude.”.

Loki tilted his head, waiting.

“Please,” she groaned. “Just try to make sure that Tony doesn’t ever drink that stuff again.”

Loki looked a little grim, but he nodded his agreement– and then moved to stroke Tony’s sweaty hair back from his face as the poor man lurched over the toilet once again.

Pepper took the opportunity to make a clean exit then, quite certain that she was no longer needed.

Besides. According to JARVIS, Captain America was trying to play Twister with Hulk in the living room. They probably needed some adult supervision.

** _Three._ **

Heimdall was rather used to receiving requests from the Allfather. After all, it was his _job_ as Asgard’s Gatekeeper to keep an eye on what was happening in the other Realms– and often Odin would ask him to look upon something in particular.

But.

It _was_ unusual for Odin to ask him to look upon a single mortal– and even more so to ask Heimdall to bring him to Asgard via the Bifröst.

And true, this mortal was one of Thor’s shield brothers– he was a formidable warrior, and certainly one of the brightest minds in all of Midgard. But that still did not suggest a reason as to why Odin would want him to be brought to Asgard. He provided no threat, and nor was he of enough note to warrant a conversation with the Allfather, so therefore… it did not make any sense.

So, with far more brashness than any other Asgardian would possess, Heimdall just… _asked._

“Why do you want this mortal to come to Asgard?”

For a moment, Heimdall wondered if Odin would not answer– that was always a possibility with the Allfather, after all. And when the king’s expression faltered a little, Heimdall thought it was a certainty.

But, then—

“Loki has been withdrawn since he returned from Midgard,” Odin said– and Heimdall had to prevent himself from making the observation that Loki’s withdrawal might have had something to do with the way he had been forcibly banished for no conceivable reason. “I wish to bring the source of his misery to him.”

“The mortal caused Loki problems on Midgard?” Heimdall asked sharply. Perhaps the Bifröst would be a little more unstable than usual—

But Odin winced. “Not… entirely,” he said. “I believe that… the mortal being here will cheer Loki up.”

Heimdall’s brow immediately furrowed– though for a different reason, this time. Because what Odin was implying… well. If this mortal was anything similar to Loki – and given what Heimdall had worked out, he had to assume that he was – he would _not_ particularly appreciate being stolen from his realm without warning. If Odin was trying to do Loki a favour, Heimdall was rather certain that this was not the best way to go about it.

“I am not sure that this is wise,” Heimdall started—

But the Allfather waved him off.

“Bring Tony Stark to Asgard, Gatekeeper,” Odin said. “I will hear no more of it.”

Heimdall shrugged. On Odin’s head be it, then—

And when the mortal arrived, cursing up a storm and swearing that every single person on Asgard would require a full body prosthetic and a complete sweep of their ‘internet presence’, whatever that meant, Heimdall could only look at Odin with a very clear message of _I told you so_ painted across his face.

** _Four._ **

When the Allfather ordered Sif to challenge Loki’s Midgardian to a duel, she was _entirely_ unimpressed.

It wasn’t because Tony Stark was a mortal, or because she thought she was lowering herself by challenging him. She knew that Thor held a soft spot for some of the Midgardians, and she did not doubt that the so-called Avengers were fierce warriors upon their own realm. And perhaps she would not even have minded a challenge from one of them—

Save for the fact that the Allfather had _asked her to lose._

It didn’t make any sense– the Allfather _never_ attempted to fix a fight in such a manner. Even if his own sons were fighting, he would rather the best warrior win than have them gain victory under false circumstances.

And to ask her to lose against a _mortal?_ It was disrespectful to her station and to her skill, as well as to her _honour_ as a warrior.

But Odin was insistent, and even though he promised there would be no retribution if she refused, she did not see that she had a choice– not unless she defied him entirely.

So when she stepped out onto the sands of Asgard’s tourney grounds, her shield on her arm and her sword in her hand, it was with gritted teeth and a hesitant step that she had never displayed before, not even when facing the fiercest of opponents.

It just wasn’t _right_—

And it felt even worse when the mortal stepped up before her. Tony Stark, it seemed, wished to fight in nothing but a thin cotton shirt and washed-out blue trousers, and _with_ nothing other than his bare hands. It was at that point Sif wondered if perhaps she had done something wrong, if she was being punished, being made into a mockery for some reason that she was not privy to—

But then the Allfather signalled for them to begin, and the mortal tapped the blue glowing object on his chest. Sif had not realised that the device was any kind of storage prior to that moment– but then again, she had never seen such a thing before, and had assumed that it was simply a decorative item common to Midgard. Clearly, she was incorrect.

“Is that magic?” she asked as she eyed the red and gold armour, her voice perhaps a little sharper than necessary– but her reluctance for this fight was growing by the moment. “Has Loki been teaching you some of his tricks?”

She glanced to the Allfather, but he didn’t appear to be watching the fight– he was looking down into the crowd with a smile upon his face, and did not seem likely to call off the bout any time soon.

Usually though, that would not matter, because it was not as if this _were_ Loki she was fighting. This was a _mortal_, and seiðr or not, she would not have any trouble beating him– if, that is, this fight had been _fair. _

And then the moral smirked, his lips curling up just before the golden faceplate formed over the top of them. “This isn’t magic, sweetheart,” he said. “This is technology, and it’s about to whoop your ass.”

Magic, technology– either way, she would have to lose against it, regardless of how well she could fight herself.

And that was _maddening_.

The fight began by Thor yelling for them to start, and then the mortal was coming for her right away, his feet leaving the ground as he flew forward– then he paused, and raised his hands to fire blasts of pure energy. Sif dove out of the way and then rolled toward him, her sword in her hands as she swiped at his feet. He dodged, rising up before charging back around again, near dancing through the sky as she struggled to dodge his attacks. She leapt up once to half-heartedly cut at his legs again, but when Stark flew down and shoved her to the ground, she did not dodge or try to counter him. Instead she simply lay in the dirt, just _waiting_ for him to take the final blow.

Stark seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if he were surprised by how easily he had taken her down. Still, Sif was expecting that he would simply take the opportunity she had given him and end the fight right there and then, so that the terrible experience was not drawn out any longer than it needed to be.

But, instead—

“You’re not trying,” the mortal hissed, his voice strained even through the speakers on his armour. It would seem that she hadn’t given Stark enough credit. “_Why_ aren’t you _trying? _Is it because I’m a human, because you think I’m not good enough?”

And Sif _could_ have come up with some kind of lie, since she sincerely doubted that she was supposed to let the mortal know the truth. She could have simply said that she didn’t want him to look bad in front of most of Asgard. Or she could have even said _yes_, she _was_ worried about hurting him– especially since Loki was _right there._ But… Sif had never been the kind of person to lose on purpose, and she wasn’t particularly practiced at it. She was sure that it had been more than obvious to anyone, and that any lie would be disbelieved. So—

“The Allfather asked me not to,” Sif said.

“Why?” Stark hissed. “Why would he do that? Is _he_ afraid that I’ll get hurt?”

“I know not,” Sif insisted. “I swear it.”

Stark considered her for a few more seconds, the glowing eyes of his armour impossible to read– but then he simply stood up, and held out his hand for her to take.

She blinked, confused for a moment– but only for a moment. Because it was what she would have done, if she realised that someone was trying to lose on purpose.

There is no honour, glory, nor even any _pride_ in winning a fight that was thrown.

So she smiled as she took the mortal’s hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet, and then she watched he retracted his suit.

“We’re going to have a rematch one day,” Stark said, his lips turning up into a smirk. “When you can give your all. I get the impression that you’d put up one hell of a fight.”

“I shall take you up on that,” Sif said, starting to think that perhaps this Midgardian wasn’t so bad, after all.

“I’ll still beat you, of course.”

“I certainly wouldn’t bet on that,” Sif replied.

They shook each other’s hands before walking back to their respective sides of the tourney ground, and it was only when Sif reached Fandral and the others that she turned back to glance at her erstwhile opponent.

Stark wasn’t alone– Loki was standing close in front of him, his brows pulled into a sharp frown. He looked like he was chastising Stark for something, perhaps– or, at the very least, he did not look like he was at all pleased. Perhaps Stark had told Loki that the Allfather had ordered the fight thrown, and Loki was irritated on his partner’s account.

Whatever it was, Sif didn’t care enough to go and find out– and it wasn’t her place, anyway.

So she merely shook her head, and followed her friends away from the arena. She still did not understand _why_ Odin had asked her to perform in that circus, but whatever the reason—

From the sour look on the Allfather’s face as he watched Loki and Stark hissing at each other, their expressions clearly upset, it would seem that it had not turned out the way that Odin had been hoping.

** _ Five. _ **

Thor hadn’t _meant_ to do it.

Honestly, if there was one thing that he wanted least in the world, it was to interrupt his brother when he was – ah – enjoying himself with his partner. But how was he supposed to know that was what they were doing? They were in Tony’s workshop for Norns’ sake, the place where they spent most of their time since Loki had decided his ‘banishment’ meant that he could now choose to spend time on Midgard whenever he pleased, and Thor had thought that Loki would be helping Tony build something, not bending him over the back of the couch.

And okay, _perhaps_ Thor could have listened to JARVIS when the AI insisted that waiting was a good idea, and had tried to remind him that his override codes for the workshop door were supposed to have been used for emergencies– but he was in a _hurry._

Thor had been in the middle of a _very important_ tournament with his friends when an Einherji had arrived to let him know his father wanted to speak with him. Thor, of course, had been reluctant to leave, but the others promised to wait for him, and he had promised to be as quick as he could.

But _then_ Odin had told Thor to invite both Loki and Tony Stark to the Solstice Ball, and Thor had to hold in his groan. Both Loki and Tony were on Midgard, and heading there and back was going to mean that his tournament would have to wait a lot longer than planned.

He couldn’t say no, however– and not just because it was his father who was asking. The Solstice Ball, despite the name, was an event that was held only once a decade, and was one of the largest on Asgard’s calendar. Only the most important dignitaries from other realms were ever invited, and so the fact that Odin wanted to invite Tony was rather noteworthy. It meant that he saw Tony not only as a significant person upon his own realm, but also as someone who was significant to _Asgard_. And that… well, that was something that he couldn’t say no to—

But, yeah.

Maybe he _should_ have listened to JARVIS, because the moment he shoved open the door—

“Brother, I have come to offer you an invitation to the Solstice– _oh—” _

“What the—”

“Thor!”

Thor immediately threw a hand over his eyes, his words cutting off with a garbled apology that certainly didn’t make much sense while both Tony and Loki kept complaining—

“JARVIS, what the _hell?”_

“You muted me, Sir—”

“Thor!” Loki yelled. “Get _out—”_

“Not until you’ve answered me,” Thor wailed, still holding his hand over his eyes– knowing that he _had_ to bring his father an answer and– well, the damage had already been done. “Father really seems to want you to come to the—”

“_No,”_ Loki snapped. “I will not attend the _Nornsforsaken_ _Solstice_ _Ball._ Now, _leave, Thor!”_

Thor almost ran into the doorframe as he hurried out, since he didn’t uncover his eyes until he heard JARVIS click the door shut behind him.

And that, unfortunately, was that. Thor was forced to return to his father with a bowed head and an apology on his lips, informing him that Loki and Tony were not currently planning on visiting Asgard for the Solstice Ball. He was worried about Odin’s reaction, because he really had seemed near desperate to get Loki to bring Tony to the ball– but rather than angry, Odin just looked to be… resigned. As if this were something he had been hoping would not come to pass, but– was something he had expected, anyway.

“Thank you, Thor,” Odin sighed. “You may go.”

But despite the dismissal, Thor stepped a little closer to the throne, his brows creasing into a frown. “Is something wrong, Father?” he asked.

Odin smiled, but it was a rueful kind of expression rather than anything based in happiness or hope. “Nothing that you can help me with, my son,” he said. “And nothing that I can change, no matter how much I would wish it. But, I do not mean to trouble you. Go back to your friends. I believe you have a, ah, _tournament_ to complete.”

Thor did not want to leave his father in such a state, but he knew that when Odin was like this, there truly was nothing he could do. Perhaps he could check with his mother, and ask her what was wrong– but whatever the case, he no longer felt like continuing the snail-eating tournament with his friends.

(Although. There was a chance that his lack of appetite for snails had more to do with what he had seen Loki doing, than with his father’s mood.)

** +_One._ **

The moment the door closed behind Thor, Odin slumped forward in his throne and rubbed his hands over his face.

He wasn’t sure where he had gone wrong.

He had done everything that he could think of. First, he had sent Loki to Midgard so that he could spend more time with his mortal, and had tried to orchestrate a situation where they might be drunk enough to give away their feelings. Then, when that hadn’t worked, Odin had brought Tony Stark to Asgard and had put him in a situation where he could prove his strength and worthiness by besting one of Asgard’s greatest warriors– but even that had somehow resulted in Loki and the Midgardian arguing. And _then_, he had thought to invite them both to the greatest ball in the Nine, so that he could have the chance enlist Frigga’s help in arranging for the pair of them to dance– but they had both declined his invitation.

It seemed that no matter what Odin tried, Loki and his mortal stubbornly refused to see what was right in front of them.

And Odin knew that he was not mistaken– he had seen the way that the pair looked at each other, the way that they acted differently together than they did with anybody else. He _knew_ there was an attraction between them.

And he was sure that if they were together, then Loki would be happy—

But it wasn’t _working_.

Was Odin always doomed to fail? Had he ruined everything in the past so succinctly that it would affect Loki’s happiness even now?

Perhaps it would be better to simply give up. The thought didn’t sit well within him, because he felt like he owed Loki more than that– but when every attempt just seemed to make everything worse…

It seemed that he could do nothing right.

Odin was drawn out of his thoughts by the large wooden doors opening once more, and he had to quickly compose himself– but when he saw who it was that had entered, he felt something heavy stick in his throat.

“May I have a moment?” There was something almost hesitant in Loki’s voice, and something nervous in his expression– something that Odin was not used to seeing. Usually, even when Loki was about to do something he rather would not, even when he was entirely terrified, he managed to hold on to his composure. The only times Odin had seen him lose it since leaving childhood was when he had learned of his heritage, and then that fateful day on the Bifröst– both moments of high emotion. So it was clear that whatever Loki wished to speak about now was _not_ something to be taken lightly.

“What do you need, my son?” The endearment slipped out unbidden, and Odin regretted it almost immediately– because Loki had not accepted such a thing in years, and it would only result in sadness.

But instead of being irritated by it, Loki instead seemed almost fortified– and that had Odin leaning forward in his seat as Loki began to speak.

“I know that this is something not often done,” Loki started, “and that it has _not_ been done in over a thousand years. I am also aware that you denied Thor this very request once. But I have to ask, because if I do not, then I know that I will never forgive myself for not trying every option.”

“Loki?” Odin asked, hope already blooming in his chest at the possibility that maybe, just maybe– this was an opportunity for Odin to finally do something _right_ by his son. “What is it that you are asking of me?”

“I would like to make a formal request for a golden apple, from Iðunn’s gardens,” Loki said, speaking quickly now, as if he were hoping to have it over with as soon as possible, though through it all he held Odin’s gaze with a fierce heat burning in the green of his eyes. “I have fallen in love, and he has fallen in love with me. We both wish to marry and spend the rest of our lives together, but as he is a mortal, _the rest of our lives_ is a promise that is currently vastly unbalanced. The only way that our marriage will not end in tragedy is if we can extend his life to match mine.”

Odin took that in for a moment, _feeling_ Loki’s emotion as a visceral sensation. He had not realised– how had he not _seen_ that Loki and his mortal were already so close? How had he managed to miss this?

But he could not ask– for Loki, it seemed, was not done.

“Understand that I am not above begging,” Loki said– and Odin knew what that must have taken him to admit, and yet Loki said it as if it were merely a simple fact. “However, I know that begging is not something that you would ever pander to. And it is not that Anthony is using me to gain immortality, if that is what you’re thinking– for if there were a way for me to _shorten_ my life to match his then I would do so. But that is not an option, so I have been left trying to think of something that I could offer in _exchange_. I have been without luck, but earlier Thor seemed certain that you wish for me to attend the Solstice Ball. If it is because you wish to arrange for me to spend time with some princess as you have in past years, then… No, even then I will attend. Providing you understand that I will_ not_ give Anthony up, I will do whatever you require in exchange for a golden apple.”

It seemed Loki realised what he had let slip– that he had allowed Odin to see exactly how desperate he was. Yet he remained firm, waiting patiently despite the look of concern in his eyes– concern over what Odin would ask him to do.

But Odin did not even consider taking Loki up on his offer– not when he finally had a chance here to do something to _help_ Loki find his happiness.

“Of course I will grant you an apple,” Odin said. “No need for anything in exchange. I will speak with Iðunn this afternoon to arrange it.”

Loki blinked, his eyes widening for a moment in a manner that might have been comical if Odin had not been aware of the deep emotion that guided the reaction.

“My apologies,” Loki said. “I think I misheard. Would you mind—”

“Loki,” Odin cut in. “I am granting your request. Of _course_ you may have an apple for your mortal.” Because it did not matter that Odin hadn’t known how close they had become– clearly, they _were_ close, and Loki was happy. And _that_ was all that mattered. Well, that and– “However, if Tony Stark does not treat you correctly, then he will find all the forces of Asgard descending upon him.”

“Do not worry, Father,” Loki said– and the title caused Odin’s breath to catch, no matter the slight strain in Loki’s voice as he said it. “I do not think that is something you need to concern yourself with.”

And, remarkably… Loki was _smiling_.

It wasn’t a bright smile– not the kind of smile that Odin used to love seeing, nor the kind he saw Loki wearing when he was with Tony Stark. It was just the smallest upturn of his lips, but it _was_ still a smile, and for now?

That was enough.

Things were not entirely fixed between them, not by a long shot– Odin was not so naïve to believe that a single golden apple, no matter how desperately Loki had wanted it, would be enough to earn him forgiveness. Yes, he knew that he still had a very long way to go, and there was still a chance that he would never earn it entirely—

But, perhaps… this could be a start.


End file.
